


Come and Save Me

by 1032am



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Andrew being Andrew, Inappropriate Use of Locker Rooms, M/M, Making Out, Neil Didn't Run AU, Perfect Court AU, kevjean being sappy and in love, nathaniel being a bastard, riko almost getting what he deserves, this starts out as kevjean but it is an andreil fic i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:06:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24361048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1032am/pseuds/1032am
Summary: Andrew is, in fact, Nathaniel's type.
Relationships: Kevin Day/Jean Moreau, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 13
Kudos: 386





	Come and Save Me

**Author's Note:**

> hi... this was born on midnight ramblings with sage and an outline that had about 80 words in it. if it feels unfinished u can blame everyone who read it and told me it was done ! sorry if the kevin pov/abrupt switch to nathaniel pov is weird btw i was gonna change it and then just didnt
> 
> also, because i promised, listen to toxic by britney spears while reading this. thank you.

Kevin Day was not a liar. 

Kevin Day was not a liar, _but_ he would be lying if he said he didn’t think about kissing Jean Moreau at least once. That's all it ever was, though- a thought. He figured it would be bad for, well, _many_ things. For one, Riko could _not_ find out ( _being gay was not good for professional sports)_ , and two, Kevin was almost positive Jean liked Nathaniel Wesninski as more than just his _pair_. 

Nathaniel did not seem to have quite so many hang ups about kissing Jean as Kevin did, apparently. 

Which is exactly why Kevin is watching Nathaniel kiss Jean right now. They're leaning against the lockers ( _anyone could fucking walk in jesus-)_ , Jean’s body caging Nathaniel in against the metal. Nathaniel’s got a fist in Jean’s jersey, gripped tight. Kevin feels something well up inside him he refuses to name, and slams the nearest open locker closed. 

He takes pleasure in the way Jean jumps away from Nathaniel despite the hand in his jersey, in the way he immediately looks at Kevin guiltily. Nathaniel does no such thing, though, looking at Kevin with a smirk hidden behind the hand he’s currently using to wipe his mouth. It makes Kevin’s blood _boil_. 

“Are you two fucking _stupid?_ ” Kevin spits, hand waving out to indicate their close proximity. “Do you _like_ getting in trouble?”

“Aw, c’mon Vi, we were just having some fun,” Nathaniel says, accompanied by a pout that loses its merit with the amusement in his eyes. His lips are red and kiss bitten, and Kevin wonders just how _long_ they were making out for. Jean at least has the humility to look apologetic about the whole situation, which calms Kevin some. “I mean, if you want a turn, I’m sure Jean would be _quite alright_ with it,” Nathaniel continues, smirk reappearing. 

“He's not a piece of _meat_ , you can’t just pass him around,” Kevin responds immediately, eyes narrowing as he stares at Nathaniel who still looks far too amused for the situation. “If you're gonna make out at least do it in your dorm.”

“Kevin, baby, what’s the fun in that?” Nathaniel says, voice syrupy sweet. “Who’d watch?” he asks, completely serious, and Kevin wants to slam him against the locker. 

All he does is shake his head though, hand coming up to rub over his forehead. “Get fucking caught by someone who's less understanding then. Not my problem,” Kevin says, turning away to walk back to his dorm. He forgot why he came down here in the first place, and he knows he’s going to be annoyed if he remembers halfway back to his room, but for now he just wants to _leave._

He makes his way out of the locker room, image of Nathaniel and Jean kissing playing on a loop in his head unbidden. He gets five steps out the door before Jean is catching up to him, looking for all intents and purposes like he was just scolded and feels guilty about it rather than just warned to _stop kissing in public places_. Kevin almost wishes he yelled more. 

“Are you mad?” Jean asks, like Kevin isn't scowling at their current surroundings as they walk. 

“Yes,” Kevin says, slipping into French rather than continuing in English. “You could have gotten caught by someone who wasn't me,” he continues, because that's the reason he’s chosen to tell himself he’s upset over. 

“Nathaniel thought it would make you jealous,” Jean says, slipping back into French as easily as breathing. Riko hated when he spoke French, but Kevin and Nathaniel had learned it- partially to spite Riko and partially so Jean would feel more comfortable. 

“Why would I be jealous?” Kevin responds, voice carefully measured despite the fact the admission hit a nerve. He wasn’t one for petty emotions like _jealousy_ , but around Jean it’s all he ever seemed to feel. He wishes he didn’t understand why- he wishes he didn’t want to constantly be in Jean’s orbit as easily as Nathaniel seemed to be, wishes he didn’t want to be casually affectionate with Jean. It wasn’t something he was _allowed_ , so he didn’t want to _want_ it. “I really don’t understand what you’re talking about,” he says when the silence stretches on too long, when Jean’s stare goes from guilty to calculating. 

“You’re stupid if you don’t,” Jean says simply, straight to the point, shoving his hands in his pockets as they walk. They’re walking slower than usual, unlike how a Raven usually walks- with a goal in mind, with _purpose_. Kevin doesn’t miss the way Jean moves just a _tad_ closer, so their elbows are bumping with every step. 

“Stupid _how_ ? Stupid because I don’t- _can’t_ feel petty emotions like jealousy? Because I’m not allowed? Because all I’m ever allowed to focus on is _Exy?_ ” Kevin rants, switching to English, stopping short to punctuate his points with waves of his hands. He _loved_ Exy, there was nothing else for him, but sometimes -just _sometimes-_ he wished there was _more_. Jean stops walking as well, standing less than a foot away from Kevin as he speaks. There’s a glint in his eye, and Kevin almost misses the way he leans closer minutely. _Almost_. 

“Kevin,” Jean says softly, stepping a few inches closer. They’re practically chest to chest like this, and Kevin almost backs away out of sheer instinct alone. It’s a split second difference between them not kissing and _kissing_ , and Kevin almost gets whiplash with how fast it happens. One second Jean is just leaning into Kevin’s space, and the next he’s pulling Kevin in to kiss him like it’s that easy. 

“We’re- hallway,” Kevin gets out between kisses, and Jean just hums against his mouth. 

“We could take it somewhere else,” Jean responds, accent lilting. Kevin finds himself nodding before he can stop himself, before he can think about how much of a monumentally bad idea this could be. “Nathaniel said he’d stay out for a while,” Jean adds, as if to reassure Kevin. 

“You two suck,” Kevin says, leaning in to kiss Jean once more before they start walking to Jean and Nathaniel’s dorm room. “I feel played.”

“Not my fault you’re so _dense_ ,” Nathaniel says as he breezes past, and Kevin almost jumps with how he came out of nowhere. “Have fun lovebirds, stay the fuck off my bed,” he adds with a wink, rounding the corner to go do whatever it is he _does_. Kevin feels a blush spread up over his cheeks into his ears and Jean tugs on one of his ears in amusement before they continue walking.

Kevin might’ve been played, but at least with Jean above him, sitting on his hips as they make out, it almost feels worth it. 

+

“All I’m saying is who the fuck do I make out with _now_ ?” Nathaniel questions at lunch one day, waving around a fry he’s holding like Kevin and Jean getting together is the most disastrous thing to ever happen to him. “Add me, add me,” he begs, like he’s talking about a friend request on social media and not an invitation to make out with his _best friends_. 

“Would you _calm down_ ,” Kevin says, flicking a stray crumb in Nathaniel’s direction and getting him right in the forehead. He smiles at Nathaniel’s scowl, and continues with, “It’s been like, a week tops. Why don’t you make out with the new recruit? He seems your type.”

“Fucking _Minyard?_ You think _Minyard_ is my type?” Nathaniel says incredulously, eyebrows raising in the process. 

“Yes,” Kevin and Jean say in sync, Kevin’s mouth now full as he speaks. Nathaniel scowls, but all Jean does is send him a fond look and it makes Nathaniel scowl _more_. 

“Disgusting,” Nathaniel finally says, and he doesn’t know if he’s talking about Minyard or how grossly domestic his best friends have become in such a short amount of time. “He’s a _hermit_ ,” he says, deciding to complain about Minyard now rather than his lack of a person to kiss.

Kevin’s eyes flick to a space behind Nathaniel’s head, but are back on him in the next moment. “Uh huh,” he says, shoving another bite into his mouth and letting Nathaniel continue. 

“I just don’t get it- he’s the most antisocial person I’ve ever seen and we’re _Ravens_. We’re _bred_ to be antisocial with everyone but ourselves,” he says, hand waving lazily in the air. He ignores Jean’s protest of “ _he could just be settling in right now_ ” to say, “The least he could do is say good morning sometimes.”

“Good morning,” A voice says from behind Nathaniel, syrupy sweet and full of disdain. Nathaniel freezes minutely, enough for people to notice if they were paying attention but not long enough to mull over, and then he’s turning around in his seat with a smile plastered on his face. 

“Oh! We were just talking about you!” Nathaniel says, voice matching Minyard’s sweet tone. “Come, join us, won’t you?”

“The fuck,” is all Minyard says in response, and Nathaniel realizes just a beat too late he doesn’t actually know this guy’s first name. All he was to Nathaniel was number 5, their new recruit and starting goalkeeper. He didn’t even have his tattoo yet he was _that_ new. It’s not like Nathaniel was itching to know more about him, though, either. 

And then Minyard perhaps does the most shocking thing, and sits down directly next to Nathaniel with his tray of food. Nathaniel freezes for the second time that day, turning back around slowly and looking at Kevin with wide eyes. He manages to mouth a completely unsubtle _what the fuck_ that has Minyard arching an eyebrow but saying nothing. He starts eating like nothing is out of the ordinary, like he didn’t just totally disrupt the peace in Nathaniel’s humble opinion. 

“So, uh,” Nathaniel says after a considerable lapse in silence, after he’s watched Kevin and Jean have a silent conversation on the other side of the table and wished he knew what the _fuck_ they were saying. “I can’t believe you guys think this fucker is my type,” he decides to say in French, practically hissing it out with how uncomfortable he is right now. 

“Aren’t I?” Minyard responds back _in French_ , and the other three at the table startle so hard Kevin actually knocks his knee into the bottom of it. “We all know about the striker who transferred, _Wesninski_. They couldn’t lose their precious three but they could afford to lose their 12. Unless, of course, your type is actually the likes of Moreau.” He says it calmly, but with an edge to his voice like he knows about the kiss, and Nathaniel is actually starting to _like_ him the longer he talks, horrifyingly enough. It doesn’t even make _sense_. 

“The striker was a one time deal, you see,” Nathaniel responds breezily in English, filing away the knowledge Minyard knows French to the back of his head. “Jean too. Now, onto the real business, what _is_ your first name? Calling you Minyard or tiny angry bastard is getting old.”

“Flattering, how you already have a nickname for me this early on. It’s Andrew,” he responds easily, ripping his sandwich into tiny pieces to eat. Nathaniel watches him uncomfortably. “I don’t think that’s the real business you wanted to ask me, though,” he adds, and Nathaniel curses.

“Perceptive one you are. Anyway, the point is- you can’t be sitting here right now if you have an allegiance to Riko,” Nathaniel says flat out, knowing Riko wasn’t anywhere near them right now- wasn’t even in the same _building_. He could talk as much shit as he wanted. It was still risky, with possible other Ravens around, but Nathaniel had hierarchy anyway. 

“I have an allegiance to no one,” Andrew responds deadpan, sounding thoroughly unimpressed with even the assumption. 

“Aw, spoken like a true Raven. You’re fitting in nicely,” Nathaniel says, smirk appearing. He ignores Kevin’s scoff from across the table, and turns more fully to face Andrew. “So, where do you come from, number five?”

“You mean what state or what institution?” Andrew asks, and Nathaniel is really starting to hate how Andrew can read him. _No one_ could read Nathaniel, yet here Andrew was, reading him. 

“Institution, preferably. Would like to know how you avoided a second term in juvie,” Nathaniel says, and Andrew hums in what seems to be appreciation for Nathaniel doing his research. 

“I dunno, Butcher’s boy. The courts seemed to have favored me just a little on that one,” Andrew responds, flashing Nathaniel a smile that screams _trouble_. It has something lighting up inside Nathaniel, but all he does is raise an eyebrow in response. 

“You’ve got a nickname for me too, it seems,” Nathaniel says, resting his head on a hand, elbow placed on the tabletop. He ignores Kevin and Jean having another one of their silent conversations, but Andrew doesn’t seem as keen to ignore them this time. 

“What’s up with them?” Andrew asks, head cocking slightly towards them with the question. 

“Kevin and Jean? They’re fucking annoying and _dating_ ,” Nathaniel responds, speaking loud enough to snap the pair across the table out of their silent conversation and back into the actual conversation going on. 

“ _Nathaniel_ ,” Kevin hisses, kicking at one of Nathaniel’s legs under the table. All Nathaniel does is smile at him, though, sweet and unassuming. “You can’t just fucking- _tell people_.”

“What? He hates Riko too! Obviously he has _some_ merit. I regret making out with Jean now to get you guys together, you’re such an ungrateful asshole,” Nathaniel rants, and ignores the way his heart beats harder at Andrew’s scoff over his words. 

“I’m gay,” is all Andrew says in response to Jean’s questioning gaze and Kevin’s panicked one. They seem to deflate in relief at that one, and all Nathaniel feels is dread. 

“Oh no,” Nathaniel says, placing his head in his hands dramatically. He ignores Kevin’s full body laugh, and Jeans quiet snicker, and completely misses the small, _almost_ smile Andrew wears. 

This was a _disaster_. 

+

  
  


Apparently, being around Andrew Minyard was an even bigger disaster than Nathaniel previously thought. 

He doesn’t know how they ended up here- Nathaniel pinned against a locker ( _again_ ), at nearly two in the morning. Andrew has Nathaniel’s hands pinned above his head, and normally Nathaniel would _hate_ it, but he’s starting to find that Andrew is the exception to a lot of things in Nathaniel’s life. 

Andrew’s close enough that Nathaniel can lean over and kiss down his neck, something he’s found Andrew _likes_ , and revels in the shudder Andrew desperately tries to hide. Andrew immediately kisses him to shut up the comment Nathaniel was no doubt about to make, and Nathaniel smirks into the kiss just to be an asshole. 

Nathaniel flexes his hands in Andrew’s grip, wanting to touch but knowing Andrew won’t let him. He could easily get out of the hold if he needed to -Andrew was strong but Nathaniel had learned how to get out of various holds- but he found he didn’t _want_ to disrespect the clear boundary Andrew had set for whatever _this_ was. It was a weird change of pace, not actively being a bastard just to be one. 

The kiss slows some, just Andrew lazily licking into Nathaniel’s mouth, and Nathaniel is content to let Andrew control the pace at this point. Andrew pulls back after some minutes, and Nathaniel’s eyes immediately open to land on the fresh Roman numeral five tattoo under Andrew’s left eye. He hums, jerking his chin in reference to it, and says, “Hope it didn’t hurt.”

“You’d take pleasure in the fact if it did, Butcher’s boy,” Andrew says, voice pitched low where he’s still ducked close to Nathaniel. He releases one of Nathaniel’s hands from his grip, and Nathaniel immediately brings his thumb up to rub over the tattoo. Andrew doesn’t flinch away or stiffen under Nathaniel’s touch, and Nathaniel counts it as a win. 

“I don’t remember getting mine,” Nathaniel says, voice matching Andrew’s volume level. “Me, Vi, and Riko all drank beforehand. It was the last time Riko felt like a friend rather than whatever he is now,” he admits, voice going softer with the memory. “He was always a bastard, but not like now.”

Andrew stays silent at the admission, just letting Nathaniel’s hand rest on his face for the time being. It was, if Nathaniel dared to call it anything at all, a _soft_ moment, almost too soft for all the broken edges both of them had. How they went from lazily making out to _this_ , Nathaniel didn’t care to analyze. They spend the next few minutes like that, just breathing in each other’s presence, and Nathaniel almost feels _calm_ right here, right now. 

“Practice early,” Nathaniel says after a beat, eyes flicking to the clock on the wall behind Andrew. It’s nearing three by now, but Nathaniel honestly doesn’t want to go back to his dorm. He sighs softly, so soft he’s not even sure if Andrew was able to hear at all. 

It’s almost as if Andrew can sense Nathaniel’s hesitance to leave, and knowing Andrew he genuinely _can_. He hums in response, and lets go of Nathaniel’s other hand, stepping back and reaching into his pocket for something. “Drive,” Andrew finally says, holding up the car key between his thumb and index finger to indicate what he means. 

Nathaniel cocks his head to the side, as if he actually needs to think about it, but he follows Andrew out when the shorter man goes to leave anyway. They manage to make it to Andrew’s car without getting caught by anyone, and Nathaniel whistles lowly at the pristine Maserati in the designated fifth parking spot. 

“They let you keep this?” Nathaniel says, thinking about his own car that matches every other car in the row. He runs a hand appreciatively over the hood as he walks past, going to the passenger side to get in. 

“I told them I wouldn’t sign if they didn’t,” Andrew responds, getting in the driver's seat and slamming the door closed. Nathaniel laughs full out, and completely misses the uncharacteristic softer look Andrew sends him. 

Andrew’s backing out of the parking space the second Nathaniel’s door is slammed shut, driving fast out of the parking lot in a way that has Nathaniel’s stomach swooping pleasantly. Nathaniel leans his elbow against the door, head resting on his fist as he stares over at Andrew. He’s got one hand on the gear shift and the other on the wheel, and Nathaniel doesn’t think anyone else could look as good driving as Andrew does. 

“Staring,” Andrew comments, and Nathaniel smiles easily, even if Andrew isn’t looking. Andrew must see it out of the corner of his eye regardless, because he scoffs and rolls his eyes, accelerating more on the deserted road. Nathaniel doesn’t mean to, but he lets out a laugh, and then he can’t _stop_. He’s doubled over, arm across his stomach and seatbelt straining with how he’s leaning, and Andrew lets out a huff of laughter of his own. “Idiot,” he says softly, but Nathaniel hears him loud and clear. 

“That’s why you keep me around, I’m constant entertainment,” Nathaniel responds, completely confident but words still interspersed with little huffs of laughter. 

“You think very highly of yourself,” Andrew says, car whipping around a curve in the road and causing Nathaniel to let out a soft _woah_ in the process. Nathaniel catches the edge of a smile from Andrew, and watches as the blond leans back in his seat to get more comfortable.

“Tell me I’m wrong, then,” Nathaniel challenges, copying Andrew and stretching out in the passenger seat, legs splayed out comfortably and hands resting on his thighs. He fiddles with the string of his sweatpants after a few moments, looping it around several fingers before unlooping it, only to repeat the action again. 

“You’d fight me if I did,” Andrew responds simply, hand reaching over to tug Nathaniel’s fingers loose from the string, pulling it so it snaps back against the waistband of Nathaniel’s sweatpants. Nathaniel catches his hand before he can move it back to the gear shift, and hums when Andrew doesn’t pull his hand away. 

“Suppose I would,” Nathaniel responds, pushing on Andrew’s knuckles and getting a few to pop satisfyingly. “Why _did_ you agree to come to Edgar Allen, number five? You rejected the Trojans, and the Foxes, even though the Foxes were willing to take your whole family,” he asks then, not looking at Andrew directly, but rather down at his hand that’s still loosely gripped in Nathaniel’s own. 

“You do your research,” Andrew comments, sounding just a little on the edge of impressed. He doesn’t respond to Nathaniel’s question, though, and Nathaniel pushes on his fingers again just to be an asshole. Andrew doesn’t react, and they’re pulling back into his designated parking space in the next moment. Nathaniel didn’t even realize they’d looped back around towards the school. 

They sit in silence for a few minutes, car idling, and Nathaniel realizes with a start it’s because he hasn’t let go of Andrew’s hand. Andrew hasn’t taken _back_ his hand. It sets off an emotion inside of him so strongly he immediately drops Andrew’s hand, the offending limb falling directly into Nathaniel’s lap with the abruptness of it. He doesn’t apologize like he wants to- knows it wouldn’t make a difference anyway, and moves to leave the car before Andrew’s even turned it off. Andrew’s hand moves to rest gently on his thigh, a barely there touch, but Nathaniel stops moving anyway. 

“Wesninski,” Andrew says softly, like he’s trying not to break the mood that’s fallen around them. Nathaniel swallows roughly and steadfastly does not look at Andrew. 

“Minyard,” Nathaniel replies with, and then the hand from his thigh is moving up to grip his chin, turning his head so Andrew can capture his lips in a deep kiss. Nathaniel settles back against the seat, letting Andrew do all the work and lean over himself. It’s confusing, honestly, how they can do _this_ , but tomorrow they’ll be back to spitting insults and one liners at each other on the court to rile each other up. Nathaniel thinks it should probably bother him more than it actually does. 

“See you later, Butcher’s boy,” Andrew says once he pulls away, leaning over to open Nathaniel’s door for him and unclick his seatbelt. Nathaniel pushes his way out of the car, closing the door behind him, and turns back around just to watch Andrew give him a two finger salute through the windshield before he’s whipping out of the parking space again and driving off.

As he walks back to his dorm, just hoping Jean is fucking _asleep_ so he doesn’t have to fend off questions, Nathaniel feels a warmth pooling in his gut the more he thinks about Andrew.

He is so totally, irrevocably, _fucked_. 

+

“So,” Kevin says one day a few weeks down the line, a few weeks of Nathaniel sneaking out from his shared room with Jean to go see Andrew, a few weeks of stolen kisses and late night drives going nowhere. He’s leaning against the locker next to Nathaniel, arms crossed over his chest. 

Nathaniel hums when Kevin doesn’t continue, bent over while sitting on the bench to tie his shoe. His hair is still dripping from his after practice shower, and he shakes it just to be a dick and get water on Kevin. Kevin huffs and pushes at Nathaniel’s shoulder, almost completely pushing him over in the process. 

“What’s going on with you and five?” he finally asks, kicking Nathaniel’s foot with his own gently. They’re the last two in the locker room, the rest of the Ravens either rushing off to their first classes or going back to their dorms to sleep before their day actually starts. Nathaniel knows Andrew is doing the latter, and he hates how he’s learned the goalkeeper’s schedule already. 

“Nothing,” Nathaniel says simply, righting himself back up and staring up at Kevin. He’s not lying- Nathaniel had made the mistake of asking the _what is this?_ question a few nights ago, and got nothing more than a _this is nothing_ in response. 

“Well it’s obviously something,” Kevin responds, holding out his hand to help Nathaniel up, even though he doesn’t need the help in the slightest. 

“He said it’s nothing, so it’s nothing,” Nathaniel elaborates, shrugging as he pulls his bag out of his locker and slings it over his shoulder. He starts to walk out, but Kevin follows, and he tries to hold back his huff of annoyance. _Tries_. Kevin ignores it, and Nathaniel steers them towards the exit so he can at least get a coffee before having whatever conversation Kevin wants to have. 

They end up at the on-campus coffee shop, place bustling with students in the early morning hours. Nathaniel manages to snag a seat for them regardless, trusting Kevin to get them drinks. He doesn’t disappoint, coming back a few minutes later with two coffees cradled in his hands. Kevin passes one to Nathaniel, and takes the seat across from him. 

“And you’re just accepting that it’s nothing,” Kevin says to continue their conversation, not actually asking even though it’s phrased like a question. Nathaniel takes a sip of his coffee, scowling at how hot it is, and shrugs again. 

“What the fuck do you want me to do? Go _“oh, Andrew, I like you so much will you pretty please make this_ something _?”_ Nathaniel says, disdain filling his voice the longer he speaks. Kevin stares at him for a beat, before shaking his head and taking a sip of his own coffee. 

“Maybe just talk like normal fucking people? Stop being so goddamn cryptic?” Kevin suggests, and Nathaniel is genuinely confused at that one. 

“We aren’t cryptic,” he says slowly, because they really _aren’t_. They do talk- maybe not in so many words, but Nathaniel always knows what Andrew is actually saying and vice versa. 

“Sure, ‘cause him saying _I hate you_ and you responding _every inch of me_ isn’t fucking cryptic as shit,” Kevin says, referencing the last time they all had lunch together. Nathaniel rolls his eyes so hard it almost gives him a headache, and stands up. “Just tell him you want _something_ ,” Kevin finally says, and Nathaniel is done with the conversation.

“Thanks for the interrogating chat, asshole. Now if you’ll excuse me,” Nathaniel says with a wave of his hand, walking away to the front of the shop where they keep the sugars and creamers. He pours an extreme amount of sugar into his drink, ignoring the way he can feel Kevin’s eyes on him, and pushes his way out of the shop moments later. 

He makes his way back to the Raven’s dorm, completely bypassing his own room that he knows is empty right now and makes his way to Andrew’s. He unlocks it with the key Andrew had given him the week prior (it still confused Nathaniel why he did, but he knew if he asked he wouldn’t get an answer, anyway). He finds Andrew curled up in his bed, other side of the room devoid of his roommate, one eye cracking open to see who it is and closing it again when he sees it’s only Nathaniel. 

“Coffee,” Nathaniel says quietly without really meaning to, tamping down the domestic feeling that wells up inside of him as Andrew sits up slowly, still wrapped in his blanket and hair sticking up wildly from where it wasn’t fully dry from his after practice shower. Andrew reaches his hand out from his blanket cocoon, and Nathaniel closes the door behind him with his foot as he walks over to hand it to him. Andrew takes a sip once it’s securely in his hand, and hums appreciatively. 

“You’re learning,” he mumbles, still sleepy apparently, referencing the last time Nathaniel tried to get him coffee and fucked up so marginally well on the sweetness factor Andrew didn’t talk to him for two days. 

“I’m a fast learner,” Nathaniel responds, sitting on the floor in front of Andrew’s bed, looking up at him. He bends his legs and crosses them at the ankle, arms coming up to rest on top of his knees, and Andrew arches an eyebrow as he looks down at him. 

“Yet you still manage to fuck up during drills,” Andrew says, taking another long sip of the drink. 

“That’s just to piss Riko off,” Nathaniel replies with a shrug, giving Andrew a quick smile before looking away. He mulls over what Kevin said earlier, and he really _really_ doesn’t want to bring it up, but it won’t stop looping in his head. Andrew makes the decision for him, kicking out a leg from his blankets and pushing on Nathaniel’s forehead with a socked foot. 

“What’s got that head of yours thinking so hard?” Andrew asks, curling back up once Nathaniel finally looks at him. Nathaniel bites his lip in uncertainty -an emotion he’s _not_ used to feeling- and shrugs again. Andrew raises an eyebrow, and Nathaniel knows he’s not going to take silence for an answer this time. 

“I was talking to Kevin-”

“Bad idea,” Andrew interrupts, rolling the coffee cup between his palms slowly. Nathaniel nods in agreement. 

“He thinks I want this to be something,” Nathaniel says, because blaming Kevin seems easier than dealing with his own emotions right now. In true Andrew fashion, though, the goalkeeper hears him loud and clear. 

“It is _nothing_ ,” Andrew says slowly, like Nathaniel doesn’t get it. “And I want nothing.”

“I know,” Nathaniel responds, head cocking to the side in confusion, because they’ve had this conversation already. Andrew huffs irritably because Nathaniel just _isn’t getting it_. 

“Wesninski,” Andrew says, reaching down so he can grip a hand in Nathaniel’s shirt collar. “I gave you a fucking key. I want _nothing_.”

Nathaniel’s mouth opens slightly, everything finally clicking into place in his head. He looks down at the hand gripped in his shirt, at the key to Andrew’s dorm securely on his keyring, and gapes just a little. “You want _me_ ,” Nathaniel says, and Andrew moves his hand to push on Nathaniel’s forehead _hard_. Nathaniel falls on his back gently, not actually because he was pushed but more because he needed to stop looking at Andrew for a moment. 

“You are so fucking stupid,” Andrew responds from the bed, shifting to place his coffee on the windowsill and moving out of his blankets to straddle Nathaniel on the floor. “Fucking idiot,” he says again, once he’s securely on top of Nathaniel, hands on either side of the backliner’s head. Nathaniel shifts, hands coming up to rest next to Andrew’s own, and blinks owlishly when Andrew murmurs that Nathaniel can put his hands on his hips. 

“Are you- Really?” Nathaniel stutters out, because he’s never been allowed to touch anywhere other than just Andrew’s hands or his head. Andrew huffs for the second time, and forcibly moves Nathaniel’s hands to rest on his hips when the boy doesn’t move. 

“I _diot_ ,” Andrew hisses once more for good measure, before leaning down to kiss Nathaniel senseless. Nathaniel hums happily into the kiss, hands gripping Andrew’s hips and thumbs rubbing gently on his hip bones without really meaning to. Andrew licks into Nathaniel’s mouth, kissing like there’s not a care in the world to be had, and Nathaniel finally pushes out all thoughts of Kevin and the conversation from earlier. 

It might be _nothing_ , but at least Nathaniel had _something_. 

+

Nathaniel has made a big mistake- _big_ _mistake._

Kevin knows it, Jean knows it, Andrew knows it- the entire fucking _team_ knows it. How absolutely monumental this mistake is, it has Riko stalking towards Nathaniel like he’s about to murder him. Nathaniel probably deserves it. Just a little. 

He shoots Andrew a quick glance, just hoping it's not the last time he sees him, and swallows roughly before his eyes turn back to Riko. 

“King,” Nathaniel says, in a bastardized attempt to rectify the situation. Flattery normally got places when it came to Riko, after all. 

“ _Nathaniel_ ,” Riko hisses, voice pitched so low and so full of venom Nathaniel almost steps back and away, only narrowly avoiding so by sheer willpower alone. “Tell me, do you _have_ a death wish?” 

Nathaniel stays silent, swallowing again uncomfortably, but gaze never wavering as he looks at Riko’s furious expression. Honestly, Nathaniel can’t even really pinpoint what set him off in the first place- was it the missing of cones at the start of practice, or the _genuine_ accidental ball to the helmet? Probably both, Nathaniel realizes. 

There's a hand in his jersey in the next moment, pulling Nathaniel so roughly he stumbles over his own feet and narrowly avoids knocking directly into Riko in the process. His helmet collides with Riko’s, and then they're as close as they can be with the cages separating them. 

“I asked you a question, Nathaniel,” Riko says, voice low enough now that no one else will be able to hear them unless they chance moving closer. 

“No, I don't have a death wish,” Nathaniel responds softly, knowing whatever he did right now was going to be the difference between walking out of here intact or walking out of here with a _limp._

“So why, in _god’s name_ , do you act like it all the time?” Riko questions, other hand not gripped in his jersey still securely holding his racquet. Nathaniel is almost- _almost_ terrified of what he can do with it right now. He goes to say something else- presumably something as scathing as the look on his face suggests, but then there's a _thunk,_ a chorus of gasps, and Nathaniel is being released in the next second. 

Nathaniel’s eyes immediately fly to Andrew, who has a hand up covering his mouth over his helmet in what Nathaniel knows is fake shock. His racquet is dangerously close to Riko’s helmet from where he had inched closer during the whole conversation, and Nathaniel puts together the pieces quickly. 

“King, I am _so_ sorry,” Andrew says quickly, voice sounding almost _actually_ apologetic. Nathaniel takes that moment to back away slowly, rejoining Kevin and Jean on the side of the court, and watches the scene unfold. 

Riko is practically vibrating with barely controlled anger, and Andrew looks as apologetic as he possibly can for someone who doesn't _actually_ care- Nathaniel thinks he’d make a _fantastic_ actor if Exy didn't work out. 

Practice is over at this point, but no one dares to move from the court. Andrew is still, amazingly, fake stumbling his way through apologies in a way that's not _so_ desperate it seems fake, but just enough to convince everyone else but the three of them standing on the side. Nathaniel wants to snicker, but he genuinely does not want to die today, so he holds it back. 

Riko huffs once, straightens back up, and says, “We’ll talk later, Andrew,” before marching off the court. He doesn't even spare Nathaniel a second glance, and everyone seems to deflate the second the court doors slam behind Riko. Nathaniel waits all of ten seconds before marching over to Andrew, pulling on the cage of his helmet. 

“And you call _me_ the idiot,” he says, shaking Andrew’s head slightly with the grip he has on the metal. “Holy fucking _shit_ ,” he curses. 

Andrew gives him a slow smile, syrupy sweet, and reaches up to hold Nathaniel’s forearm. “Was fun. Fucking deserved it,” he responds, sounding just a little out of breath, presumably from _adrenaline._ He just- whacked Riko, _Riko_ , over the head with his racquet, _fuck_. 

“I have never been more attracted to you than I am right now,” Nathaniel says seriously, completely honest. He hears Kevin snort from his left, and ignores it in favor of bumping his helmet with Andrew’s. “Holy _shit_ ,” he repeats. 

“Are you going to be okay later?” Jean pipes up after a moment, all of them but Andrew knowing what Riko was capable of first hand. Andrew peeks around Nathaniel to raise an eyebrow at Jean, giving him a smirk. 

“Am I going to be okay? Jean, I’m going to show him why he shouldn't mess with my things,” Andrew responds simply, squeezing Nathaniel’s forearm gently. It has warmth bubbling up inside Nathaniel, and he just _really wants to get Andrew alone_. 

“Disgusting,” Kevin responds, but there's a wide smile on his face. 

Nathaniel and Andrew are separating moments later, realizing everyone else has filed off the court except for them four, and they all make their way back to the locker room to shower and change out. Riko is nowhere to be found, and Nathaniel can't help the laugh that bubbles up inside of him, even if it makes a few Ravens look at him like he’s insane. 

“Okay?” Nathaniel asks later, when he's laying in bed with Andrew, clothes disheveled where he haphazardly pulled them back on. 

Andrew hums, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Nathaniel’s ear. “He doesn't scare me,” Andrew responds, closing his eyes when Nathaniel reaches up to rub over the blush still high on his cheeks. 

“He won't go easy on you,” Nathaniel warns gently, other hand moving to rest lightly on the dip of Andrew’s waist. He rubs over the soft skin there, where Andrew still hasn't put his shirt on, and revels in the goosebumps that rise at the action. 

“Who said I’d lie down and just take it?” Andrew says, flashing a quick smile. Nathaniel sighs softly, knowing Andrew was going to do what he was going to do regardless of what Nathaniel said about Riko’s punishments to him. 

“I’ll be in my dorm with Jean if you need me, then,” Nathaniel finally says, leaning over to kiss the tattoo on Andrew’s cheek and climbing over him to leave before Riko found them in bed together, causing even _more_ problems. Andrew reaches out for Nathaniel’s hand, squeezing his fingers once before releasing them and letting him go. 

If both Andrew _and_ Riko come to practice the next day looking less than pristine, no one mentions it, and Nathaniel doesn't try to tamp down the pride welling up in his chest over it.

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me on [tumblr](http://knadreil.tumblr.com) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/byminyard)!


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